First Impressions
by Bell Marilli
Summary: In that war-torn world, if she had to leave without saying goodbye just to save him—the one who saved her, looked after her, gave her a name—she'd do just that. [Slayershipping/Ninsazashipping]
1. Saving

**Seriously, you could rename me as "Lazy Fuckbutt" and there'd be no difference. I mean, _seriously_. Feast your eyes on the last update. When was my last update? I don't even remember.**

**Yeah, anyway.**

**I welcome back Mr. Slithers with open arms like oh dear god so as a welcome-back-hi-friend gift I'm just gonna _try_ and get off my lazy butt and write something half decent. Yeah, Sylveon x Hydreigon cuz that's what she did and you know me, I've got only one leg to stand on.**

**Note that this shit takes place in some sort of apocalyptic/dystopian(?) world. And very obviously much ideas came from GTI, which I recently restarted and replayed.**

* * *

><p><span>First Impressions<span>

_Faded trust; but he'd help her, anyway._

* * *

><p>Her pink paws skittered across the ground, whole body drenched in sweat, and fur matted in blood. Some of it was hers, she knew, but mostly of the others who had dared to attack her because she looked like she couldn't even hurt a fly, and not because just she looked delicate and dainty and all, but also because she looked utterly <em>weak<em>. As such, with such an opportunity, they thought killing her next would be a fantastic idea, but all that happened was she just released some glowy-fuckshit and they were suddenly on the ground, body seemingly ripped apart from inside out.

But... _how_ had it come to this? Why were they so dissatisfied with the way the world worked at that time? Why didn't they just appreciate that the world was vibrant, teeming with life, and, and—she didn't even know. It seemed to be so fine, she was satisfied with it, even if the world was unbalanced in many ways. That didn't justify having almost half the world killing the slightly-more-than-half sane bit of the world and killing themselves right after they thought they were done.

_"Because pokemon don't deserve to live—"_

Or so some said, but why? Pokemon were the only things that lived in that specific planet! What else was there to grow? Plants, but apart from that? What meaning would plants have without pokemon?

_"—as they a__re destructive, cruel, and they are simply very selfish!"_

Said the _pokemon_ who started it all.

Stupid pokemon. Stupid world. Stupid universe. Stupid existence.

The sylveon's pace stopped altogether. Her energy had been depleting at a very steady rate, and she couldn't run from those murderers any longer. She could attack them, sure, but what if they cornered her? She didn't have a safe place to rest—which was what she _direly_ needed—and she couldn't protect herself any longer.

"Are you, perhaps, a survivor?"

...Voices. Damn. A "survivor", huh? They were most likely asking because they wanted to find out whether she was worth killing or not, but maybe hopefully... nah, they definitely couldn't be willing to help her. Then again, what else could she do? Stay on the ground where she was completely vulnerable?

Seemed like she had little choices.

"Y-Yeah," she panted, legs bending backwards in an attempt to support herself. An awkward stance. She didn't like it one bit.

"Then you must come this way immediately! You're in awful shape!"

A pair of furry arms scooped her up from the ground. Her vision had blurred to a point where nothing made sense anymore, so she was reduced to flailing around pathetically. Who was this pokemon, asking her if she was a survivor, then swooping her up for absolutely no reason?! So what if she was in bad shape?! They weren't going to... help her, were they?

"Let _go_ of me..!" she yelled (or "yelled" as much as she could yell in her condition) and released the best fairy wind she could muster. The pokemon carrying her yelped, and she was jerked around once again, but not once was she let go. What, this pokemon was scared of her weak, fairy-type wind?

"Don't do that, please. It's dangerous!"

"Who _are_ you?!"

She felt one arm let go of her. Closer to where her success stood, but it also led her half-dangling off the other arm. She screamed, clutching on for dear life. Well, she had to admit, her fear of heights was extremely embarrassing. But why'd that bastard decide to remove his arm, huh? Was he scratching his head, or something?

She was quite taken aback when she felt something patting her head. And it was warm, and gentle, and generally just... _comforting_.

"Pardon my rudeness; I should explain my actions. I rescue the survivors of this terrible war and take them in, you see? _I... back to..._"

She was starting to lose the ability to hear properly. Instead of asking him to repeat his words or tell him about her hearing problem, she yawned. Leaving herself vulnerable, she curled up and tried to sleep.

"Oh, you must be tired. I'm sorry. I should've let you rest first."

The other arm stopped patting her head (which she liked) and went back to scooping her up properly. The sylveon was slightly disappointed that there wasn't any comforting presence hovering over her head, but she needed to rest. Sleep was always a top priority.

Hold on... those "_hands_"... they looked sort of like _heads_...

"You rest up. We'll be there soon."

...It wasn't like she had any time to deal with such trivial matters like that.


	2. Waking

First Impressions

_He looked deathly terrifying; he wasn't at all._

* * *

><p>"...right?"<p>

Ugh, more voices. She had spent the whole time trying to run and fending off those rapist-looking pokemon. She wasn't about to get up. She felt groggy, and she felt _pain_ at her flank. She remembered being wounded, but she didn't have the time to mull over the pain at that time.

Stubbornly, she rolled over, refusing to get up. The surface beneath her was... soft? Cushy? Wasn't she on a street of some sort? It should be rock-hard, not soft like... a mattress...

Oh, right—that _creature_ that practically lifted her into the air. Then she took a nap, didn't she? ...Where _was_ she? Her surroundings felt rather cool, like it might have been air-conditioned. Perhaps not. And the last time she felt a soft mattress underneath her... how long ago was that? A few days? She couldn't even tell how long it had been.

"...Are you... all right? Please tell me you're still fine..."

It sounded familiar, but not too familiar, either. Groggily, the sylveon sat up, rubbing her eyes before cracking them open. Her vision was horribly blurry, but it soon adjusted—in front of her was a white wall. White walls... didn't speak, so...

Turning to her left, she blinked, then started. Three other pokemon were staring at her—well, two were, the third—a mouse-like, orange-furred creature—wasn't paying attention at all. The other two... they seemed like... she couldn't quite recognise their species in that split second, but right afterwards, she recognised them as a hydreigon and a flygon.

"She's all right," the flygon breathed with a nod. "A lot livelier than I expected, really."

"Um," the sylveon started nervously, "hi."

"What do you remember before you fell asleep?" the hydreigon questioned. The familiar voice—it belonged to him, no doubt. Was he the one who carried her, then? The one who literally swooped her off her feet? ...And patted her on the head?

"Being... carried..." she mumbled, "...and... running, I guess."

"That is _so_ vague," the mouse-like creature snapped. Ah, she recognised it now—it was a raichu. "Kid, we don't have _time_ for playin' games, unless you're playing my games, then it's a different story. You need to tell us what happened apart from you running and being carried by that fella Sher-Sher there."

Apart from that? Being attacked, possibly. That was just it. The rest was a blur. She remembered tearing away from her friends, and running from... _something_... and the rest was just blind running and defending herself. She didn't remember anything.

"I suppose we should introduce ourselves," the flygon finally said. "I'm Pamela. Usually, others just call me Pam, and that works just fine, too. He's Crusher." She gestured to the hydreigon.

The sylveon opened her mouth, wanting to introduce herself—then she just couldn't _remember_. What was her name? Who was she? What...? She didn't remember her name, all of a sudden, and she must've looked very lost. Her name was... something with an "S", wasn't it? ...What was her name? She just... She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to will herself to remember—no luck.

Instead, she looked at the raichu curiously. "Um... what's your name?" she asked hesitantly. It was a subject-changer for then. She just had to sit down and _think_, and she knew she'd remember.

Snorting, the raichu folded her arms. "Thought you'd never ask. I'm Kaitlyn. Now, kiddo, I think it's time for _your_ introduction."

Oh, geez, Kaitlyn pushed her into a corner. She was a little hesitant to tell them she couldn't remember. After all, who couldn't remember their name? Their inquiring gazes didn't help, either.

She jumped off the bed, looking around and hoped they would think she was simply investigating the room. In one corner, there was a bookshelf with three shelves, but they were almost empty. There was a door that probably led... well, outside of the room. That was all she knew.

Having no more ways to stall, she tipped her head downwards. "I... don't remember."

"You don't remember your own _name_!" Kaitlyn burst out in laughter. The sylveon flinched, gaze fixed on the floor. Of course they'd mock her for it. Noticing her behaviour, the raichu waved her paws nonchalantly. "Kid, I wasn't _trying_ to upset you, y'know. I just find the thought of an amnesiac hilarious. I mean, that's the twenty-third we have."

The sylveon froze. "Twenty... third?"

"Yeah! You and I included." Kaitlyn shrugged. "I recovered my memories, though. From what we've recorded, all the memory loss spans really range. Some people can remember until just a few days ago, some can't remember their entire lives. What 'bout you?"

What _about_ her?

...What didn't she remember?

She paused over it, squinting. She clearly remembered running from all the destruction and potential danger, but what was she doing _before_ that? She was talking... with someone... some _people_... she knew them, didn't she? But for some reason, they felt far away. She couldn't remember their names, what they looked like... she couldn't remember _who_ they were.

The sylveon took a step backwards, terrified. She couldn't remember anything before the destruction began.

"When... did this... chaos all start?" she weakly choked out. It gained her an alarmed look from both dragon-types. Kaitlyn seemed indifferent.

"Eh, four days ago."

_Four days... I only remember four days?_

Nobody had called out to her by her name while she was on the run. Of course. If she really had amnesia, then that would explain why she couldn't quite get her own name. She couldn't grasp a _lot_ of things with logic. It seemed like she still retained her knowledge of terms and intelligence, though, so she didn't have to start learning from ABC.

"...I only remember those four days," she finally muttered. "Of destruction."

"That's terrible," Crusher—the hydreigon—remarked, looking sympathetic. "But you'd still need a name to go by, so we'd be able to recognise you and for you to recognise yourself. What to do...?"

"Let's just give her a temporary name, then," Pamela sighed, looking rather deflated. "We don't have any other suitable options. I'm leaving it in your hands, Crusher."

"_What_? Why?"

The sylveon glanced back up at the hydreigon. He was _huge_. He looked _menacing_ and _terrifying_. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't scared of him, but... he certainly didn't look like he was about to kill anyone anytime soon...

Looks really did deceive—she felt so comforted while he was carrying her to this _place_—where was this?—but now, when she could actually see his form, she felt mildly terrified of him. The sylveon herself was gullible, she knew. Although, that didn't have to do with much.

"—and that's why I thought 'Camellia' would be a suitable name. You think so too, don't you?"

She blinked when she saw his friendly smile, and realised his question was directed at her. "H-Huh—?"

"Pft! That is _so_ girly, Sher-Sher!" Kaitlyn yelled, laughing while clutching her stomach. "And cheesy! Your reasons are—_are the cheesiest ones ever_! I—I think we're never gonna ask you to name kids, and if you're ever a dad,we're never gonna let you name your own kids!"

Crusher brushed Kaitlyn's rather mocking comments away. "What do you think?" he prompted once again. "Of the name 'Camellia', I mean."

Saying she wasn't listening would hurt his feelings, she knew. Camellia sounded fine to her. Simple but pretty at the same time. Hesitantly, she nodded. Was getting a new name that simple..?

"Right! Then your new name's Camellia."

The newly-named sylveon nodded. She was still so confused as to what was going on. She didn't have a clue about the destruction and all, and she didn't even know where she _was_.

"Can you, um..." Camellia asked, pausing briefly, "tell me... where I am?"

"You're in a safe place, dear. Away from all that trouble for the time being," Pamela replied. "We've been rescuing poor pokemon who've been caught up in this mess. Frankly, it's silly. If they want to kill people, they should kill themselves..."

All right, so... she had been brought to some "safe headquarters" to be protected until it all ended. That was simple enough. She wondered if she could help—heal some people, or... fight against whatever was out there.

She wasn't as weak as most thought her to be.

"And about this... war... thing?"

"It's not a war!" Crusher immediately refuted. "It's just pure murder without much reason. See, Camellia... do you want to hear a story?"

"...If we have time for it..."

"Pff! _Sher-Sher_ has a lot of time, but," Kaitlyn scoffed as she whipped round, "I'm not so free! See ya, Lia. Enjoy your stay here, it's better than out there." With Pamela chasing after her, both pokemon exited the room. Camellia felt slightly uncomfortable with just Crusher around, but she had to stick around, anyway.

Camellia didn't know the whole situation very well. Announcements had been made all over the city, broadcasting an icy-looking fox that announced that the world was going to destroy itself. Many pokemon turned against each other and began killing. From other few announcements, they said that pokemon were beings of destruction and didn't deserve to live.

What was up with all of that?"

"First of all..." Crusher looked at the ceiling, seemingly thoughtful, "you should know that the organisation that is planning this... is all run by evolutions of eevee."

Evolutions of eevee..?

Didn't that count her..?

"Which is why, I hesitated to bring you in," Crusher went on. "But it seems like you're not a bad person, Camellia. I do hope you'll do your best to help us. We really need help."

She was getting _really_ confused by it...

"Anyway, I'm not sure if this organisation has a name, but it's run by an eevee." An eevee? The weakest of the lot? "They think that pokemon kill nature. That we're awful beings, that without us, the world would be much more peaceful. Or... something like that."

"The world is going to be _empty_ without us," Camellia stated plainly. What a bunch of dumbasses their enemies were...

"They don't seem to think so. There are still the 'legendary pokemon' who are always watching over us, and they think that if all is peaceful, the legendary pokemon will be happy. Especially 'Yveltal', who seems to be the legendary pokemon of destruction."

Oh. Those... _myths_. "B-But there's Xerneas too. And... she's the Life Pokemon! Won't she be upset to see this?"

"I'm not sure if the organisation has a brain or two in there... but if they have it or not, they're still a threat to us. If they somehow manage to call upon Yveltal, it'll be even worse."

The sheer thought of the legendary pokemon made her shudder. Yeah, it's cause havoc _everywhere_. She didn't want to see a future like that—full of nothingness and just legendary pokemon.

How did that thought satisfy anybody?

"They haven't managed to, but that's just how it goes. Nobody can summon something of such power easily."

Thank Arceus.

...Arceus, right! Would Arceus be happy with all of this? Surely not. He wouldn't want to see his own creations bashing each other up.

...Then again, he hadn't stopped it. Was he, perhaps, really enjoying it, after all..?

"Are you _sure_ their goal is to rid the world of pokemon because we're filthy? There seems like there's more to it..."

"If there were, we haven't discovered it yet. We can only work with what we have."

They could only work with what they had—but to find more to work with.

* * *

><p><em>"...Are you there?"<em>

Camellia blinked, looking up to see nothing but white. "Is this some stupid 'dream prophecy' or something like that? If it is, I'm not interested."

_"No! It's not a dream, I swear."_

"If it's not a dream, that what is it?"

_"It's just... telepathy. There are no secrets to it. You are not asleep, you are unconscious,"_ the voice said bluntly. _"In other words, you have fainted. Undoubtedly, your friends are worried about you."_

"Are you here to give me some advice, or something?" That's how it always went. Dreams were always good guys giving other good guys advice to help them with their adventure.

It seemed like whoever was there... their breath hitched and they snorted. _"Of course... I am not here to give you advice of any sort."_

What? No! That beat "stereotype" down! The voice was lying, right..?

_"I... am telling you to stop your rebellions,"_ the voice said harshly, seemingly annoyed. _"They are, all in all, pathetic. I have taken notice of your existence. Your new name is Camellia, it seems."_

"How would you know that?"

_"Because I have been watching ever since that stupid, oblivious hydreigon took you in."_ Wow. Harsh. _"And even before that, we were always keeping tabs on you. We know everything about you, Camellia."_ She paused. _"Even your past."_

"You know—Hey, tell me my past!"

_"Of course I won't. I will not divulge any information since I have no reason to. I have simply come to tell you two things. The first is, as I have said, to stop your rebellions. Tell everyone around you to quit it because they won't win. Our victory is guaranteed."_

Quite obviously, the person speaking was from the stupid organisation that started it all.

_"The second is, we're going to collect you, at this exact time next week."_

Camellia paused, blinking over the feminine voice's words. Collect her? For what? She didn't know her past, sure, but that did mean she was linked to them? She was an evolution of eevee, too... but... if they had her from the start, why didn't they just keep her in a cage, or something?

Or maybe she didn't "belong" to them from the start. Maybe they just wanted to kidnap her as some hostage.

"No," she replied steadily. To add emphasis to her distaste, she added, "Bitch."

_"Hmph. No worries, silly one, I am not displeased with you in the slightest. However, we're going to need you, whether you like it or not. We'll invade your little headquarters next week and we'll take you to our headquarters."_

"I said _no_. Where I go is my decision."

_"It is no longer your decision, stupid one. Your life, from now on, will be decided by us. I will be keeping tabs on you, so don't think you will be able to escape and hide in some deep ditch."_

"I'm not _that_ cowardly. And I'm most certainly not going to go with what you say."

_"Perhaps not now, but you will. Goodbye."_

When she snapped out of it, she only found herself in a hospital-like room, under a thick blanket and she was connected to some _machine_.

She made a mental note that not all dreams had good advice with it.

* * *

><p><strong>I probably did an awful job in explaining things, but that's what you get for now. And the next chapter will not be as long so don't even get your hopes raised.<strong>


	3. Warning

First Impressions

_She may have been very unfriendly at first, but she didn't seem too bad..._

* * *

><p>"Odd. Only your first day here, and you've already fainted."<p>

Camellia smiled nervously at Pamela's half-stern, half-concerned voice. The fainting bit wasn't her fault, it was the person in charge of that dream. Telling them about it would probably be a good idea...

_"I wouldn't, if I were you."_

_...Why are you still talking to me?!_

_"I'm meant to keep tabs on you, darling."_ She sounded like she didn't want to do it either. _"As much as I dislike you, you're needed."  
><em>

A sharp pain coursed through her head, like she was being stabbed inside-out over and over again. Perhaps that was that stupid voice's way of telling her how much she could do. Whatever it was, it... _hurt_... She gritted her teeth, willing herself not to cry, and looked back at the flygon.

"Um... I'm sorry. How long was I out for?"

"Six minutes. Anything more than five is considered dangerous, as you should know."

Six minutes... It sure didn't feel like six minutes in the dream. She bit her bottom lip. She _had_ to tell somebody, even if that voice wrecked her brain with pain afterwards. She couldn't _not_ let them know.

A giggle resounded. _"Darling, you're so funny. I didn't say I'd punish you for telling others. I just said it's not a good idea."_

_I'm not going to listen to what you say, you stupid, idiotic voice._

_"...Torn, by the way."_

_What?_

_"They call me Torn. Since I have the unfortunate job of 'accompanying' you for now, you might as well know what I'm addressed as."_ Torn didn't sound delightful to reveal her name.

Camellia shook her head, ignoring Pamela's curious gaze. She didn't know what to say to either of them. She didn't know _how_ to suddenly bring up the very thought of being targeted and attempted to be captured. She shivered. It felt... creepy, to say the least. Why did they give her a warning? Why didn't they just... invade and take her away? Surely they were strong enough.

Torn did not answer. The sylveon supposed that it wasn't something that could just be freely discussed.

She should call the others over, too—Crusher and Kaitlyn. The more that knew, the better. Repeating herself sounded like a trouble, too.

"Do you think you can call Crusher and Kaitlyn? I need to tell you guys something," Camellia said vaguely.

Eyeing her for a moment, the insect-like dragon nodded. "Of course. Wait here for a moment, Camellia. I'll get them right away. Will you be fine by yourself?"

"Guess so."

"Then I shall be off."

While Pamela exited the room, the fairy-type fox looked around the room. As previously noticed, it was like a hospital ward. Nothing much else could be said about it. Nothing suspicious about it. Probably a place they took her in to rest up properly, unlike the earlier room she was brought to.

So much things to do, yet so little time...

...What _things_ was she thinking about?

"I'm going crazy," she told herself, slipping off the bed and testing her legs. The moment she did, her legs buckled, and she fell to the floor, gasping. That had _hurt_! Why was it so hard to even just _stand_? Earlier, it hadn't been so bad, but it had only been slightly difficult.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think of _what_ could possibly have caused her legs to... well, not work like that. Nothing came to mind... apart from that one other very obvious answer.

Sounding miffed, the reply echoed, _"It's your body's problem, mind you, not mine."_

Yep, basically, Torn was the cause of it. Camellia settled on the floor. No point even trying to get _up_ to the bed, when she couldn't even walk straight. It was noticeably uncomfortable, though...

_"When I infiltrated your head, your whole body shut down to solely focus on defending your mind. It seems that you still haven't recovered. What are you, a tiny stick?"_

"I can ward off enemies on the street for _days_, so I'm not helpless," Camellia bit back. "And, go away. You're not helping me in any way."

_"Ward them off? Did you really think that came from your own effort? I'm somehow tickled."_ She sure didn't sound it. _"And... not helping you in any way? ...Let's see about that."_

On its own, the sylveon's legs began to move. And it didn't hurt. She swung around jerkily, forelegs already reading up to the edge of the mattress. Camellia blinked, but before she could fully digest the situation, her right hind-leg swung up to reach the edge of the mattress, using the force from the forelegs to help. Getting her last leg up on the bed wasn't hard after that.

Blinking in slight terror, Camellia felt her senses return to her. She turned her head, testing herself, before drooping her head down again. Okay... so Torn _had_ helped. But it was initially Torn's fault, anyway.

_"See? I _can_ help you, if you're unable to move yourself."_

_I suppose you can only be useful when—_

_"Right, whatever. I'll have to leave for the time being. Do well without me."_

Silence.

Camellia knew she was on her own for the time being. Loneliness suddenly felt very welcomed to her, like she had experienced it many times before, but the thing was... she didn't _remember_ being alone. Besides, she had friends, right? Well, she was talking to her friends before the chaos started.

The truth of the world terrified her, needless to say. Unstoppable war? That must've been something she was never going to expect. And even if she could fend off some people, she knew that some of them would be tons stronger than her.

_Disgusting. How... disgusting._

Yes, there was really no other way to describe it.

_Wretched, selfish idiots. Why do they think they exist? To wreak havoc? How wrong they are._

Perhaps she _was_ weak. Perhaps she couldn't do much. Perhaps she really would be taken away by the enemy. Perhaps they stood no chance against the organization. Perhaps they were wrong about everything. Perhaps they had real, valid reason. Perhaps... Camellia and the others... perhaps _they_ were the wrong ones...

_I'm going to make them learn their places, whatever stands between me and my goal._

* * *

><p><em>"Are you all right?" whispered a silvery voice, one that was almost... concerned?<em>

_The creature in front of her seemed to shift backwards. "...There is no reason for you to come near me," the creature in front of her muttered back, somewhat angrily. "Go away."_

_It seemed like... whatever had initiated the conversation had smiled. Maybe it lit up the creature's heart without the very creature knowing it. He looked monstrous, he knew. He was huge, and had a grumpy expression plastered on all the time._

_The much smaller creature sighed. "I know there's no reason for me to come near you, but..."_

_Almost as if anticipating the continuation of her sentence, the larger creature's breath hitched._

_"...I don't have any friends."_

_"I... would not make a good friend. How foolish of you."_

_"Even if you may not be, a friend is still a friend. Nobody wants to be friends with me, so... you'll be my friend, right?"_

_"I never said that."_

_But the smaller one did visit him the next day, and the day after, and of course their friendship eventually blossomed._

* * *

><p><strong>I wrote this when I was high. Literally. I had too much soda.<strong>

**I don't plan on Torn making her way to every chapter... I don't intend her to appear for the most bits, actually. So don't worry about the "pesky voice in head", because it's not gonna be much of a problem.**

**Not much stuff. Lots of words but nothing happens hahahaaaa**


	4. Planning

First Impressions

_Was the warning useful or dangerous?  
><em>

* * *

><p>"—and that's that."<p>

She didn't feel any throbbing pain afterwards, so she took it as a good sign. Crusher's face had a thoughtful expression plastered on and Pamela looked rather worried, constantly massaging Camellia's head reassuringly. The sylveon wasn't sure what to think, at that point.

"A warning? That's... rather strange, dear."

"I'm sure it is."

"And now she's bothering you?"

Biting her bottom lip, Camellia nodded. "...Yeah," she responded after a pause, unsure. Why would they need Torn to _speak_ to her? Why not just keep tabs on her silently? She wasn't even sure.

Pamela sighed. Crusher looked like he was thinking a bit too deep. "There's nothing we can do but protect you and the headquarters, but we have to know our priorities. If it's you they want, and if they're fierce—"

The dragon pulse was barely dodged and Pamela hissed at Crusher, looking at the mark in the wall thanks to his relentless attack. The look in the other dragon's eyes was definitely _too_ protective, and it made Camellia a little frightened, sure. She wasn't in the mood for violence—she just wanted cooperation.

Hang on.

"'Priorities'?" she echoed stupidly, eyes wide. "A-Are you saying—"

"We will never hand over any survivor to them," Crusher said quietly.

Pamela looked a little miffed. "Of course... I don't want to let little Camellia go, either, Crusher, since she's so youthful and innocent—but is one rather-nice pokemon worth the lives of others?"

"I'm sure we can pro—"

"We can't protect all of them. And it's not our choice. If they think we should hand her over, we will."

Camellia was _sure_ that was what Torn wanted. Mocking her into warning them, and now they were thinking of seriously giving her up. Camellia whimpered. Oh, no. She didn't want to go to that scary-sounding enemy side.

She didn't want to become an enemy of herself.

Hearing a triumphant snort, Camellia listened out for Torn's words. _"Do you think this is all according to plan, honey?"_

_Of course it is!_

_"You're rather clever, but it's a tad too late."_ Torn laughed. _"They're already in doubt about what they should do..."_

Camellia cleared her throat. Fine, if that was really what Torn wanted, then the sylveon would happily bounce it back. She never backed down from a challenge, one that was shoved right up her face.

When both pairs of eyes were on her, she said, "Actually, I don't need any protecting."

"What?"

_"What?"_

Three voices echoed at the same time, and Camellia winced—her ears had not been ready. Still, she plowed on. "I understand your concern for me and for all the other survivors, but I can protect myself," she continued, letting their shock sink in before smiling uncertainly. "I've been protecting myself for the last four days, and while it wasn't easy, it wasn't the toughest."

"Hello? I _saved_ you and you were panting and all tired and worn out!" Crusher scoffed. "You are still in no shape to defend yourself!"

"So just because of that, I'll hand myself over? Kids' logic. If option A and B are out of the window, there's option C to take," Camellia scoffed. "I protect myself and you protect the survivors. We should both be able to agree on that."

They all stopped to consider her words—Torn seemed displeased, but she didn't say anything. Perhaps she was waiting for the outcome.

"It doesn't make sense," Pamela finally responded. "As long as they don't have you, they'll keep on invading us, and that's not protecting the survivors at all. It's either give you or protect you, and if we have to, we'll give you up so they'll stop attacking."

"They. Will. Not. Stop. Attacking. Once. They. Start." Somehow, she knew—Camellia didn't know how, but she knew that Pamela's logic was dumbshit and she knew what the organisation was going to do. "Even if they have me. Or not. Which is why you protect them and I'll protect myself."

They all paused. Let it sink in again. Pamela seemed confused as ever and Crusher had fallen silent, as if he was debating over something. Camellia could hear Torn spluttering somewhere in the back of her head in utter shock.

She didn't know how, but clearly, she was not somebody to be meddled with—although she seemed timid at first, her personality was anything _but_. (In fact, Pamela could imagine her cussing left, right, center—_everywhere_.)

"How do you plan to keep yourself, along with all the other survivors, safe, if I may ask?" Pamela asked curiously, sounding wary.

If she said it, Torn would hear. If she thought about it too clearly, Torn would be able to see it. So she couldn't. Torn's moment of shock had given her an opportunity to think through her plan, but now no more.

Camellia gulped. "Don't worry, I'll tell you tomorrow. Once I execute it."

* * *

><p><em>"Tell me what your plan is, child!"<em> Torn immediately exploded, sounding very annoyed. _"I went through all that trouble to search for your location and devise a plan and now you counter it—ugh! That warning was completely my fault, I admit—"_

"Go away, Torn," Camellia replied confidently, "you're not helping."

_"I'm meant to disrupt you!"_ Torn yelled, tugging at Camellia's mental strings—it hurt. _"Of course I won't let you go that easily! I'll keep hurting you until you spill! We'll have our hands on you, child, and when we do, you'll know to never run from us again!"_

Camellia turned away, eyes closing and refusing to let the tears out. Whatever—Whatever—Whatever—She wouldn't let Torn _win_. Once Torn did, everything was over. And she couldn't let everything be over.

She had to play it her way.

She giggled, then looked up at the ceiling to attempt to force back tears. "Don't worry, Torn... you won't be around soon."

_"I am always in your head. Always!"_

"I'm not too sure about that..."

_"Don't worry, because I am—"_

"Miss Camellia?"

"Enter!" Camellia called back to the feminine voice. Jeez, of course the doctors and nurses were all girls. A houndoom and a gardevoir entered, both looking rather concerned. Torn hissed, but didn't seem to know what was going on. "I'm sure you've been informed?"

The houndoom shook his head. "No," he replied, sighing, "we were just told you needed help with a little voice."

"That's exactly it—can you get her out of my head?"

Then all she felt was searing pain shooting and cracking her head. Torn was not pleased. _"You will not get rid of me,"_ she said threateningly, but had a frightened edge to it. _"I won't allow it."_

She couldn't register anything but the fact that she was curling up and screaming—it _hurt_! Like a damn bitch! Her eyes watered, and she scolded herself for crying so much. Registered pain—then darkness, followed by a few hysterical shrieks—from her, or from _them_, or from Torn, she didn't know—but it seemed like hours before it ended.

_—seconds felt like days and minutes felt like weeks_—


	5. Leaving

First Impressions

_Was her leaving useful or harmful? First impression was it was useful—on hindsight, it was stupid._

* * *

><p>"She's gone, Miss Camellia," whispered a gentle, soothing voice. Her eyes snapped open, flinging her vision around in a panic before she sat up, feeling dazed. Tired—she didn't know what she was feeling. The gardevoir was just smiling warmly. "It took a few minutes to get rid of her, but we eventually did."<p>

"W-Wha—"

"It's rather common to deal with Infiltrators." The gardevoir blinked. "Ah. I'm sure you haven't heard about it before, have you? It's a term we only just came up with—in any case, let's just say that they're psychic-types who pry into other pokemon's minds, then they send a part of themselves to hang around the pokemon's mind. It is what we call an Infiltrator. They're usually harmful, but yours didn't seem to do much damage."

Camellia wheezed. "'Not much damage'? It hurt like hell!"

The smile continued. "Others do worse."

She didn't want to meet the "others".

"The Infiltrator was persistent, though," the houndoom noted, growling in irritation. "Just wouldn't leave until I exerted more pressure."

Heaving a heavy sigh, Camellia crawled out of her bed. She was in the same room she had woken up in after Crusher rescued her from the streets. It was a nice bed, she could safely say, but she wouldn't be seeing it in a while.

She wouldn't be seeing it in a _very_ long while—or maybe never again.

A pained smile, and she bowed towards the two. They seemed surprised by her action, as if they had never been thanked before, but accepted it with warm smiles all the same.

"Thanks for getting rid of her," Camellia muttered. "What if she comes back?"

"We've put a temporary block on your mind," the houndoom answered. "It's only temporary—we have to reapply it in a while. If you don't, she'll come back."

_I'll be safe for a while, then,_ Camellia decided, before creeping over to the door. "Thanks."

"For?"

"Helping me. Say thanks to everyone. I'll just be heading out for fresh air."

"Fresh air? Out there?" the gardevoir laughed. "You must be kidding, Camellia. It's anything but fresh out there. It reeks of blood and destruction and nothing more than the scent of _death_."

Camellia managed a small smile and left.

* * *

><p>Maybe she shouldn't have run straight away—she was still weak. Panting, sides heaving, Camellia ran through the blood-stained streets, making sure to stay out of sight of all those crazy pokemon who thought they were bringing the nations together or some crap. She didn't bother remembering their goals—why should she? She didn't care for them.<p>

It was tough avoiding all of them, especially since she was exhausted. She ran to the point she couldn't carry herself anymore and collapsed.

_Exhaust—_

Her breath hitched. She told Pamela she was leaving the headquarters, but the flygon had tried to stop her, but she ran all she could. She was starting to think it was an idiotic plan an action altogether—was it? They would rather give up on her than risk all the other survivors. If that's how they were going to do it, she'd gladly run by herself. Her life was something she did not want to risk.

She didn't know why, but she _felt_ important. Perhaps it was her being self-centered, but she didn't want to lose herself.

Wasn't it like that to everyone?

Conveniently, she found a cloth on the ground and she tugged it over herself to keep herself concealed. There was fire everywhere—it gave the streets a reddish tint. It made her feel hot under the cloth, but she didn't really have much of a choice. (Did she?)

Yawned—she felt so tired. Maybe she should've rested up a lot more at the headquarters—she didn't have the time to, she remembered, and sighed. Being the victim of it all was so annoying... she had to make sure she herself wasn't caught by the big bad wolf, or else...

"_Excuse me, all citizens—__KRRR_—_are you there?_"

Nobody responded. The streets were mostly empty, save some of the goons manipulated by the organisation. There were one or two others in sight, but they looked terrified and were in hiding as well.

It was ridiculous. All of it.

"_I am here to make a deal._"

She didn't _want_ to hear their deal. It was probably stupid and impossible.

"_If you manage to capture a sylveon, then we will give your street peace for the remaining days of our takeover. We assure you this is not a joke or an attempt to get your hopes raised before we crush it. We desperately need that sylveon and all help is welcomed, along with a reward._"

...Tch. Of course those bastards would try to get her and go by ridiculous means. She sniffled, curling up under the ragged cloth and tried to conceal herself, or pretend she was a corpse along the road, covered mercifully by a nice stranger.

"_Does peace not sound nice to you?_" It did. But didn't that sound like a lie to everyone? That they'd give a street _peace_? "_I assure you, she is weakened and will be easy to catch__. We promise that we will reward you if you capture and turn the sylveon in to us. __She does not have any significant trait to symbolise her, but she does go by the name 'Camellia' as of now._"

Bastards! Torn certainly had been keeping them up with all the news.

"_Also, if you happen to run into any other evolution of eevee..._" A long, dread-filled pause. "_...Do not hesitate to give it to us._"

The deep voice stopped, and it stopped for an incredibly long time. Camellia decided it was over—that the horrible voice had stopped its terrible warning. She sighed, breathed and closed her eyes, tried to stay as still as possible. Nobody disturbed her.

Until a tap on the shoulder arrived.

She tensed, but didn't move and pretended she was dead, like the other corpses on the street. She had placed herself a distance away from the fire—it couldn't spread that quickly. It simply didn't stop tapping her shoulder and attempting to wake her up.

"I can smell your scent, you realise?" the voice patiently asked.

Camellia flung the cloth away and grinned up at Crusher. "...You followed, you retard."

"I was not about to let you travel by yourself. Once I heard it from Pamela..."

"Got it." Camellia swung the cloth around her back and tied it to the front, forming it into a cloak. "I hope you're not here to take me back because I'm not going to."

"I'm not going to, of course! I respect your decisions—I'm just here to make sure you're protected."

"...Thanks." She could tell she was red, and hoped he passed it off as just the fire's glow. She felt connected to him—perhaps they had met before? Somewhere in her lost memories?

She snuggled up to him softly, and—she felt safe.

* * *

><p><strong>Ahhh yes two rushed and horrible chapters for the delay. I so wish I could put these chapters on a queue but FFN doesn't have that sort of function. <strong>

**While I don't mean to have A/Ns every chapter, I feel like this one is necessary to let you know _why_ double update. I hate double updating—the chapters turn out like shit. Literally. Shitty and rushed. Worst combo.**

**...Progress is progress?**

**Ah, well; I'm hoping you're enjoying the story so far, whatever it is. Have a good day! ...Or night. Whatever. Have a good _time_, lady. Non-lady.**


	6. Foreseeing

**Author's note ahead of the chapter first.  
><strong>

**1) I apologise for dialogue dialogue is like my best friend when it comes to writing**

**2) It gets kinda weird and weirdo-ish towards the end, and if you don't understand it, heads up—_you're not supposed to_.**

**Also no, the last bit isn't an author's note and it isn't breaking the fourth wall.**

* * *

><p><span>First Impressions<span>

_Dangerous?_

* * *

><p>"Could you be the one known as Camellia?"<p>

She jumped awake, smacking Crusher in the process. If her name was called and she was on the streets, she was most likely being hunted down. Damn, so they _believed_ that they'd have peace? She grunted, looking around for the source of the voice.

The creature before her was half-blue, half-white, with an aerodynamic body. On its sides was a pair of plane-like wings. If Camellia squinted, she could see a red triangle on its chest.

"And who might you be?" Crusher demanded, sounding rather hostile. "Are you really striking that deal with the head of the—"

"Do not assume." Crusher shut his mouth and let the creature—possibly a pokemon—speak. "Staying out on the streets is dangerous. I wouldn't recommend it. I come with help—are you going to accept it, Camellia?"

Help—yes, help. She needed help. Camellia stiffly nodded. If they had to, they'd run. The blue pokemon in front of them seemed as if he was dealing with business, and after seeing her nod, he gave a slight close-eyed nod back and turned around, floating away. Camellia hesitantly walked after it, careful to hide herself from the others.

The last thing she needed was to be caught by them. Torn's warning really was twisting her life around and around. Speaking of which, if Torn _was_ from that organisation, and that organisation was run by eeveelutions... then it would be safe to say Torn was an espeon.

"In here." The blue creature opened a clearly worn out door. Camellia blinked. She hadn't noticed it before. How silly of her...

She stepped through the door, and sneezed immediately. The place was _incredibly_ dusty. And dark. And creepy. She entered what seemed to be a one-room apartment, a squished living room, kitchen and a bedroom all in one.

Crusher did not seem pleased with the room they were presented with, either. However, as dusty as it was, there didn't seem to be anything dangerous.

"I apologise. I was in a hurry and I had no time to clean up this place," the creature sighed, shutting the door quietly. He seemed awfully calm. It unnerved Camellia even further. "Please, have a seat."

The seats were dusty. Ick. Camellia sat on the cushion seat, biting her bottom lip as Crusher took another chair. They waited for the creature to pour them a cup of water each and served it to them, and the sylveon mumbled a quiet "thank you".

After they both downed their cups, Crusher glanced at the creature sternly. "So you know our identities, don't you?"

"Yes. It wasn't very hard. Your security system should be improved." Ouch. "However, that does not matter. I apologise for the late introduction, but my name is Latios."

Camellia's breath hitched. Latios? Had she heard that somewhere before? Hm...

"I work against the organisation as—"

"What's their name?" Camellia interrupted.

"They do not have one, but my sister refers to them as EVIL. She states it's an acronym for something or another." A fond smile suddenly graced his lips and Camellia reeled back for a moment, surprised. "My sister currently has her hands tied as well—"

He suddenly coughed, and the fairy fox blinked. There was no limit to how much he could surprise or shock her. "Forgive me—I forget we're under a time limit." They were? "Please allow me to explain. I work against the organisation in hopes of stopping them, but it is virtually impossible to stop them with my power along with my sister's. We have been looking into the matter and have been trying to work our way to stop them.

"We didn't have much success. We knew about the plan even a week beforehand, but no matter how much we told people they _wouldn't_ believe us. So the destruction started, just like they wanted it to, so my sister and I had no choice but to look for ways to stop them. And we did eventually find out their goal—"

"We know their goal too," Camellia hissed, folding her paws. "You're basically feeding us useless information! Do you or do you know how to stop them?"

Latios drew back, looking rather astonished with Camellia's biting question. For a moment, it remained so until he grimly frowned, a glare positioning itself clearly onto his face, and his claws looked dangerously ready to attack somebody. He raised his head, arching his neck, presenting himself in a higher form than the both of them.

After that action, Camellia knew she had said something very wrong.

"I know how to stop them, but it would simply be _unfair_," he remarked, closing his eyes softly. "Please allow me to continue. If you know their goal, then you must know they seek out Yveltal. Just a quick confirmation, my comrades—you say their goal is to destroy the other, filthy pokemon, is it not?"

"That's what is it, from what we've found," Crusher answered.

"Then you are on the wrong track."

"_What_?"

"It is unclear... but... we do believe the leader has other intentions. We're uncertain, but destroying everything is certainly not their objective, but"—Latios whipped round, staring at the door suspiciously—"we can say safely that they want their hands on Yveltal..."

Camellia turned her head away from the door, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Not knowing what their enemy wanted was _creepy_. What did their enemy want?

_Of course, it's something stupid! Why would they think of something smart, or reasonable? There's no justifying killing off everyone!_

Dark rage bubbled within her. Yes, they were _stupid_. They probably didn't even know half of the people they were killing or going to kill. It was stupid and childish beyond words. It did lead to the question why else they'd do it.

_It's for something dumb, no doubt—_

"From what I've heard, they haven't found the method of unleashing Yveltal. They did something... very _strange_."

"As in?" Camellia croaked, staggering slightly. She felt dizzy—dizzy, dizzy, _dizzy_—like she was about to faint—what...

"If I had to say, they—"

* * *

><p><em>"There would never be any reason for you to befriend me in the first place," a gruff, familiar voice sighed, and it sounded almost exasperated. "I don't need any friends."<em>

_"I think that's a lie. Everybody needs friends!"_

_The younger pokemon—it was a sylveon—_

* * *

><p>...<p>

* * *

><p><em>—giggling, faint laughing—<em>

_"Friends usually drag you down," the bigger pokemon huffed. "Relying on them only gets you killed, most of the time."_

* * *

><p>"—is sealed—"<p>

That thing is—

* * *

><p><em>"You wouldn't know, right? You haven't had any friends before!"<em>

_A snort. "True," the bigger one agreed hesitantly. "Fine, you win. Just this once."_

_"Of course!"_

* * *

><p>Was that—Was it—<p>

_—me?_

* * *

><p><strong>Out of all creatures... it had to be something like <em>you<em>?**

**They are exceptionally useless... I'd never lend a hand to them if they asked for it...**

**...You're not much...**

**It'd be a while before I could fully utilise you, no?**

**...Hm? On hindsight, you're rather different, aren't you? If you look closer into what seems to be...**

**Ha! Interesting. Let's see how long you last—**

**—_shall we?_**


End file.
